


Can't Tell You How I Feel

by crisiskris



Category: Andromeda (TV)
Genre: Episode Tag: s03e20 Twilight of the Idols, Feelings, M/M, Slashy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 12:18:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13434591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crisiskris/pseuds/crisiskris
Summary: After Dylan and Beka's tete-a-tete about the Patriarch, Harper has something to say.





	Can't Tell You How I Feel

**Author's Note:**

> Episode tag to Season 3 episode 20, Twilight of the Idols. Really has very little to do with the actual plot of the episode, however.

Dylan hadn’t been expecting Beka to come talk to him – but he was expecting the person who came next.  The door slid open and there was silence, a hesitant, angry silence that Dylan could feel like it was coming from himself.  “Come in, Mr. Harper,” he said quietly, without turning around.

Harper stalked in like a cat.  It always amazed Dylan how someone who seemed so ungainly and childish could suddenly transform into something so graceful and sleek when he wanted to.  Needed to, he supposed.  It was little details like that which reminded Dylan that Harper’s life had been harsh, horrible, a nightmare.  All of his little quirks were not aspects of character.  They were survival mechanisms.

“Go ahead, Harper,” he said now, watching Harper pace back and forth in front of him.  The younger man’s fists were clenched and his jaw was hard.  Dylan could see the anger he was trying to contain.  He didn’t fully understand it, but he’d realized a long time ago that when Harper needed to talk, he couldn’t just talk.  When he didn’t *need* to talk, you couldn’t shut him up, but when it was really important, he needed permission.  So, tired and confused as he was, Dylan gave him that.

“You didn’t tell me,” Harper ground out.  “You had a plan, you figured all this stuff out with Tyr, and you didn’t tell *me*.”  He glared at Dylan, and Dylan saw the hurt and fear underneath the anger.  “You don’t trust me.”

It hurt, seeing Harper that way.  Dylan slumped, collapsing in on himself.   “No,” he replied.  “No, I promise you, it’s not that.”

“Then what?  You afraid I would blab about your little plan?  You going all military on me now, deciding that I don’t ‘need to know’?  I could have helped.”

“There was nothing you could do.  You’ve already got Andromeda running better than my whole crew of engineers could do 300 years ago.”

Harper sneered at him.  “Fine.  So I couldn’t have helped.  Useless Harper, left out of the loop again.  I deserve better.  You keep telling me that I’m one of your ‘top staff’ but you treat me like I’m just one of the faceless, nameless people, like I don’t even matter!”

Oh, god.  If only he could get the man to see, if only it were safe to let him know… Dylan stood, hands held out, trying to pacify.  “You matter, Harper.  Believe me, you matter.  I  - ” _hate corrupting what little innocence you have left.  Wish I didn’t have to involve you in a war.   Fear that if you know too much, it’ll twist you into a bitter, ruined man.  Just want you to be happy_.  “I needed to make it look like Tyr was acting on his own.  The crew – they’re just learning, Harper.  They’ve trained in the new academy, but they don’t actually understand anything.  And they trust me well enough as their captain, and more importantly they trust you.  But no one really trusts Tyr.  If he takes off on his own and does something weird, they think, okay, Tyr being Tyr, Captain Hunt will deal with him later.  But if you were a part of that scam, they’d think ‘why won’t Harper explain to us what’s going on?  He’s supposed to be on our side.’  Do you understand?”  Please let that be enough, Dylan prayed, watching Harper carefully.  _I can’t tell you the truth_. 

Harper’s rage had fallen though, leaving just the usual pout.  “I could have acted surprised,” he argued, pointlessly.   Dylan didn’t bother to answer, knowing that Harper was just saving face now.  They both knew it. Harper took a deep breath, puffing out his cheeks, and sighed, letting the rest of the anger drain away.  It left him looking young and vulnerable, and Dylan’s heart clenched.  “Now I know how Beka must have felt when you had me build the FMS for the Maru,” he mumbled.

“Yeah.  Sucks, I know.”

“It’s a dirty trick, Dylan.”  The words came out without any anger or bitterness, just sadness. 

“I know.  And I’m so sorry, Harper,” Dylan had to physically restrain himself from reaching out, from trying to touch Harper, comfort him, offer things that were wholly inappropriate and dangerous, besides.  “Unfortunately, when something works, you keep it in the repertoire.”

Harper shook his head.  “Things are getting a lot more complicated,” he observed.  “I miss the old days, when we didn’t have any allies and it was just us.”

“Me too.”  They shared a long look, full of regret and nostalgia and… that something else, that charge, that emotion that Dylan couldn’t bring himself to put words to.  He looked away first, and missed Harper’s wistful smile.

“I’m glad I’m not the one in charge of these decisions,” Harper told Dylan, moving to leave.  His hand rested on Dylan’s shoulder for a minute, and Dylan relished it, inhaling Harper’s scent, faintly metallic under the more pungent scent of grease.  Then all too soon, the warmth on his back was gone.  “Hang in there, boss.”

“Yeah,” Dylan whispered, even though the doors had already opened and closed again.  “You too.”  He slumped back in his chair, folding in on himself.   One little thing, he thought… one little feeling, unspoken, between the two of them.  If he could just say it, maybe everything could be different.   But a war was no time to start confessing feelings for someone else.  “War is hell,” he mumbled, closing his eyes.


End file.
